Morning's Embrace Part I
by White Lady of Ithilien
Summary: Love and Lust is found in the vale of Imladris. GlorfindelErestor Slash. No graphic scenes. (edited)
1. Default Chapter

Title: Morning's Embrace Part I Email: lollipop4588yahoo Rating: R Pairing: Glorfindel/Erestor. . .for now Author's note: I've been wanting to write a long and hopefully engrossing story for quite awhile now, but have never really had the time to do it. This is the fist part in the arc that I've been planning recently. Enjoy! Disclaimer: Everything but the story belongs to Professor J.R.R. Tolkien. Don't sue me cuz you won't get a lot, that I promise you. I'm not rich.  
  
2506 Third Age  
  
The pine scented valley lay basking in the morning's golden blanket of light. The security of Rivendell remains in quiet keeping of the time, oblivious to the harsher beings of Middle-earth that are a constant threat to neighboring lands. Nay, on this morning, on this day, a peaceful tranquility of refuge and hospitality will linger untouched for now. The golden strands of the sun reach down to plunder the Last Homely House, filling the latter with its warmth and affection.  
  
In one chamber only within the Homely House does the morning's arrival provide a nuisance. Lord Glorfindel of Imladris lay intertwined in the satin silk sheets of his divan, his handsome golden tresses spilled lightly across the cushions. His brow furrows as an emerald rimmed eye slowly unveils from behind a sleep-laden lid. He observes the already bothersome intense sunlight shifting through the parting in the drawn curtains and, while revealing floating dust motes suspended in the air, glares into his eye. Brow still furrowed in stubborn denial of daybreak, he slowly shifts to lie on his back. Lifting his arms, he rubs the awkward sleep from his eyes, grunting in disapproval.  
  
"A beautiful morning it is, meleth nîn," a low, silky voice murmurs. The Lord Glorfindel is not alone.  
  
Rising into an upright position from the far side of the bed, the Lord Erestor, steward of Imladris yawns sleepily with a soft smile upon his lips. His auburn locks cascading down his left shoulder, he closes his eyes briefly against the sunlight that assails him. The steward hastily turns his attention to the elf lord lying still upon the bed, the latter gently lowering his hands from his eyes.  
  
Both elves gaze into one another's eyes for an instant before another word is spoken. None need to be. A steady flow of affection radiates between the two, memories of the past evening springing to remembrance. The Lord Glorfindel leisurely lifts a hand and brushes a plait of auburn hair behind his lover's slender tipped ear.  
  
"Do not leave just yet," The golden elf implores to the auburn in a deep groggy voice, "Stay. The morning has but only just arrived. No one will be the wiser should you choose to retire to your own chamber any later." The steward presents a small smile before replying,  
  
"Hir nîn, as much as it would please me to remain here with you, I shudder to think of the consequences should some poor unprepared individual happen to stroll in here, and find me lying with you in your chamber. It would not bode well with me to induce a heart ailment to such a person and it should not bode well with you as well!" The steward chuckles fondly as he lowers his lips against the elf lord's. The golden locked elf responds swiftly by claiming the other in a hungry manner, his lethargy all but forgotten, while reaching his hand up and behind the nape of the steward's neck and pulling him ever closer. Emitting a slight snigger, the steward holds him at bay by gently cupping the other's face and parting his lips from the latter's.  
  
"After all, it was your decision to keep this liaison from prying eyes, was it not, hir nîn?"  
  
Letting a low, playful growl sound from his throat, the Lord Glorfindel insistently pushes the other from him as he replies with a teasing ferocity,  
  
"Be gone then, steward, before I change my mind and ravage you with as much fervor as I did yester evening!"  
  
Hazel eyes widened and pale cheeks flushed a slight shade of crimson as the steward lifted himself hastily from the bed and began to don his apparel that had been quickly cast aside the previous night. He felt eyes roving his form from behind and his cheeks flushed anew.  
  
Glorfindel noticed the rushed manner of the steward as his lover dressed rather quickly. Chuckling in his head, he fondly regarded that the steward had not been quite so bashful the night before.  
  
So eager to cover your lovely form, vana pen? He brushed his thought against the other's mind.  
  
The steward started at the unexpected intrusion of his thoughts and snapped his head around.  
  
"Only eager to make haste, hir nîn. The morning grows aged." He voiced his reply, for he thought it rather discourteous to speak in this intimate way of the mind unless one was talking with close kin or spouse.  
  
The golden crowned elf merely smirked and waved his hand towards the door.  
  
"Be gone then, impatient one!"  
  
Lowering his guarded demeanor slightly before leaving, the steward smiled warmly and softly whispered,  
  
"I shall see you at breakfast, hir nîn." And with that the auburn crowned elf quickly poked his around the corner of the door frame to see if anyone would behold him sneaking shamefacedly out of Lord Glorfindel's bedroom. As soon as his suspicions were held at bay he gave one last lingering gaze to the elf lord and snuck out with the grace and haste of an elf.  
  
The happy thrum from last evening's memory coursed through the Lord Glorfindel's elven veins as he sat up in bed and prepared to ready himself for the new day. After all, the Lord Elrond had requested his presence in his study before they broke their fast and it would not do to keep him waiting.  
  
TBC. . . 


	2. First Encounter

Title: Morning's Embrace Part I Email: lollipop4588yahoo Rating: N-17 Pairing: Glorfindel/Erestor. . .for now Author's Note: Yeah, the last chapter was more of a prologue to sort of get myself started. This chapter is going to be in more depth concerning the character's emotions. Enjoy! Btw, there's a more graphic version of this at adultfanfiction.com. Disclaimer: Everything but the story belongs to Professor J.R.R. Tolkien. Don't sue me cuz you won't get a lot, that I promise you. I'm not rich.  
  
Donned in a pale azure tunic, the Lord Glorfindel, master at arms for Imladris, made his way with precision and grace through the halls of the Last Homely House, vaguely aware of the sweet smell of baked breads and cakes the house-mistress, Anariel, had apparently prepared for the morning banquet.  
  
The distinguished elf lord nodded his greeting to a few Imladrin elves as they passed him, their smiles shone with respect and not just a little tad of fear. The Lord Glorfindel was the most respected elf in all Imladris, in exception to the Lord Elrond, for the former had achieved great triumphs in his long life. It 'twas common knowledge that he was of the House of Finarphir and an 'Elf-Lord of a house of princes', in charge of Rivendell's defenses, and one of Elrond's chief counselors.  
  
However, if one knew the great elf-lord intimately, one would know that there was absolutely nothing to fear from him. Although, his demeanor could be rough and stern, he would turn soft at the first sight of tears or sadness from anyone that he held dear to himself.  
  
Ascending a small stairway, the elf-lord came upon a large set of double doors. Straightening his posture slightly, he lightly tapped the door with his knuckle and waited. Upon hearing an acquiescence of entry from within the room, he gently opened the door and slipped inside.  
  
The Lord Elrond's study was indeed a lovely sight to behold. A large opening in the angelic carved walls revealed a quaint cascade of spring water falling down into the valley below, sounding the entire room with its melodic ring of water spattering against rocks. Within the room was a large mahogany desk with scattered papers strewn over its surface. A crackling fire writhed in the fireplace to the far right, underneath a large map of Middle-earth and the Undyling Lands.  
  
The Lord of Imladris, Elrond, stood with his wife, Celebrian, behind the desk, speaking with her in soft tones. The Lady of Imladris gazed up at her husband, her long silver tresses cascading against her face, a sort of fear mingled sadness lingering in her light blue eyes. Glorfindel's brow furrowed at the sight of his troubled Lady, however he remained silent until spoken to. He watched as the Lady gave a tiny nod, and allowed herself to be given a warm embrace by her husband. She then made her way to the door and gave the elf lord a little smile as she exited. Upon her departure, the elf-lord asked,  
  
"What ails the Lady Celebrian, my lord?"  
  
Elrond remained thus behind his desk for a while, his eyes narrowed in worry and intense thought. He strode to the window over looking the cascade, robes trailing behind him, as he gazed in thought for awhile, long before answering,  
  
"My wife is worried, Glorfindel. Her father has sent word to us to be at the utmost caution. Orcs, goblins, and all manner of foul things have seen to deign us with their presence of late," the healing master tiredly lifted his hand to rub at his eyes, his Great Ring, Vilya, glinting in the morning light. "She worries of our safety here, in Imladris. Of us, our children, and of course our beloved friends." He added the last part with a small smile directed toward Glorfindel. The elf-lord returned the smile with full admiration,  
  
"I will do whatever I must to ensure the security of this home, my lord."  
  
"I know you will, Glorfindel, mellon nîn," Elrond replied, now taking his place in front of his friend. "So, for now, I have a task I would ask of you."  
  
"Anything, Lord Elrond," Glorfindel promptly replied.  
  
The healing master now turned and made his way back to his desk, before setting himself in the high-backed chair before it.  
  
"I have also reached word that we will be receiving several envoys from Lothlórien and Mirkwood to discuss this sudden surge in evil activity east of Hithaeglir. They will be here within the remainder of the week, lest they befall any difficulties. I would ask of you to select a few of your warriors and camp near our borders to await their arrival. They will need Imladrin elves to guide them toward this hidden vale."  
  
"I will do as you wish, Elrond," Glorfindel acquiesced with an incline of his golden head. Under normal circumstances, the two elven lords treated one another as equals and great friends, yet in times of business and haste, they were severely dignified. "How soon shall I depart, my lord?" he continued. The healing master sighed in worry before answering.  
  
"Nightfall at the latest, Glorfindel."  
  
"It shall be as you command, my lord." The elf-lord bowed once more before taking his leave. Once outside the double doors, the smell of sweet way- bread assailed his nostrils yet again, and for the first time that morning, he realized the full extent of his hunger. Making his way quickly to the dining hall, he wondered if Anariel had perchance happened to make his favorite morning delicacy; lemon crème pastries. Just the thought of them, made his mouth water.  
  
As he entered the hall, he caught sight of Elrond's children breaking their fast together at the head of the large table. Arwen was currently scolding them for "unintentionally" spattering batter onto her, whilst the twins, Elladan and Elrohir, strove to conceal their bouts of laughter. The elf- lord smiled to himself at the sight. Although the three of them were well past their 2,000th name-days, they still could act rather like neth hîn at times.  
  
Taking his seat at the lower end of the table, wanting to avoid getting batter spattered onto his own self, his eyes quickly scanned the food-laden table. He nonchalantly added a roll and peach to his plate before he heard the sound of liquid being poured into a goblet next to his ear. As he turned his head, he saw Anariel grace his setting at the table with a goblet of Morning Wine.  
  
"Hannon Le, Anariel," He thanked her and smiled before asking, "Is there, perchance, any of your Lemon-crèmes left, muin hiril?"  
  
The young elf-maid gave a small frown as she tucked a lock of dark gold hair behind her tipped ear as she answered,  
  
"Apologies my Lord, but the Lord Erestor acquired the last of them earlier this morning, not long before you entered. I could make some more if you like, however, they will not be ready until well past the hour of noon."  
  
Glorfindel reassuringly patted her arm and replied,  
  
"'Tis no matter, muin hiril. The spread you have already provided is lovely."  
  
Assured that she had not angered her lord in anyway, the young elf-maid curtsied and made her way to the opposite end of the table, where she heard a rather unpleasant crash. It seems the twins had overturned a fruit platter.  
  
Erestor sat under the shade of a large beech tree, beside the Bruinen river which ran through the valley, leafing quietly through random papers of correspondence sent to Imladris by neighboring domains. It was his job to keep track of them, and organize them, so as they could be read with ease by the Lord Elrond. He had decided to glance them over outside, for he found his office rather stuffy that spring morning.  
  
"Enjoying your duties, Erestor?"  
  
The unexpected voice caused the steward to jump, and the papers nearly flung from his grasp. His surprise turned to astonished annoyance as the ever familiar golden-locked elf-lord knelt in front of him.  
  
"For Valar's sake, Glorfindel, you nearly caused me to fling these into the Bruinen!" he scolded, while gesturing to the papers.  
  
"Oh that would be a shame now, would it not?" the elf-lord replied with a smirk.  
  
Erestor glared back in exasperation. Normally, the golden elf-lord was proper and dignified, yet whenever he happened to be around the steward, he would turn into this teasing, smirking elf! Erestor could not decide whether he was fond of this or not.  
  
"My, you look positively divine this morning!" the elf-lord continued teasingly. Erestor decided he was fond of this, though he gave the former a scolding look whilst he blushed.  
  
"Why were you not at breakfast?" he quietly asked, purposely gazing at the papers below him so as not to meet the elf-lord's eye.  
  
"Elrond had a favor to ask of me," the golden elf replied as he brushed a lock of auburn behind Erestor's tipped ear. The steward flushed once again.  
  
"So shy, Erestor?" he heard the elf-lord ask, also noticing that his voice was closer. He abruptly glanced up to retort,  
  
"No I am not-!" he began, however was cut off shortly as his lips were claimed by he elf-lord's. Melting as he always did when in the golden elf's embrace, he felt a hand snake around his neck and pull him closer as well as a skilled tongue ravaging the inside of his mouth. As quickly as the kiss began, it was broken off as the elven-lord pulled back.  
  
"Wh-what are you doing?" the steward asked, somewhat weakened and spent.  
  
"Punishing you." The elf-lord replied matter-of-factly.  
  
"Punishing me? Why?"  
  
"You ate my lemon-crémes." The elf-lord stated in a deep, drawl that was uncommon amongst elves, yet ever so enticing.  
  
"Your lemon-!" however the steward was cut off once more as he was reclaimed in the passionate kiss. This time, he could do nothing but moan into the golden-elf's mouth as he felt himself gently, yet forcefully shoved back against the beech tree. The all but forgotten papers tumbled out of his hands and began to flutter in the wind. The elf-lord's body covered his and he felt the achingly comfortable weight of the other on top of him.  
  
"Glorfindel?" he meagerly implored as the other began to nip and bite at the sensitive flesh just below his ear.  
  
"Hmm?" the elf-lord grunted as he now began to suckle the hollow at the base of the steward's throat.  
  
"Wont we-? We will be seen."  
  
Glorfindel continued his trail of kisses along the steward's throat and collarbone, eventually making his way back up to the swollen lips to cease the steward from protesting overmuch. He knew it was a risk that they would be seen, yet he could not pull himself away from his steward. His mind wandered back to their first time of lovemaking. It had been three years ago. . .  
  
2503 Third Age – "Flashback"  
  
Glorfindel took a swig from his wine as he sat in the Dining Hall. A loud, raucous summer storm was at its peak and relentless, heaving its wrath upon the hidden vale. It was late evening, and the only light provided was from the two grand fireplaces on opposite sides of the hall, thus, everything was coated in a dull, amber glow. The supper feast had long since been over, yet a few who had joined in the meal late still lingered, drinking the last of their wine and merely picking at their plates. Glorfindel was one such person. He no longer obtained an appetite, yet he felt no desire to join the others in the Hall of Fire. His attentions at present were focused upon an auburn steward sitting down the table a ways from him, finishing his meal. The steward had come into the dining hall rather late, apologizing and claiming he had taken an afternoon nap and found that he had slept the time away. After laughing sympathetically, the Lady Celebrian bid Anariel to fix up her steward a place at the table.  
  
Glorfindel watched as Erestor calmly sipped his wine and took a careful spoonful of his vegetable stew. The elf-lord took yet another swig from his wine and found it interesting to watch the steward who had no clue he was being gazed upon. He was well aware of the warnings from others that the more wine one consumed, the cloudier one's awareness became, however he couldn't help feeling that his vision and thought had never been more clear. It seemed that he was looking at the steward for the first time, and taking notice of all the subtle nuances that the auburn-locked elf possessed. He noticed with interest that the steward would always take a careful sip of wine after each partake of his meal. He noticed the way his hazel eyes seemed to shine the brighter in light of the amber radiance from the crackling fire. He noticed how his hair provided a striking contrast to his fair skin. He noticed the way his robe was slightly open at the collar, revealing a slender collarbone. The elf-lord suddenly decided against taking another swig of wine, perhaps he had had enough after all. Yet, he still could not tear his eyes away from the attractive steward.  
  
Suddenly, as if sensing the elf-lord's stare, the steward glanced up. Glorfindel managed to think quickly and cover up his surprise by giving a soft smile of friendship. He watched warily as the steward returned the smile, picked up his goblet of wine, and made his way over to sit beside the elf-lord.  
  
"Rather shrill this storm seems, does it not, Glorfindel?" asked the steward as he took his seat.  
  
"Uh, yes, very. Very.....shrill." the elf-lord mumbled incoherently. By the Valar, why was he suddenly so uneasy in his old friend's presence? Glancing up into the striking hazel gaze, he caught sight of a small bit of wine dripping past the auburn elf's lips.  
  
Forgetting his place momentarily, Glorfindel reached up a thumb and softly brushed the droplet away. Abruptly, he realized what he was doing and froze, his palm unmoving against the steward's jaw. The hazel eyes of the steward widened as he locked his gaze with the elf-lord. Glorfindel could feel him tense against his touch.  
  
"F-forgive me, Erestor. I seem to have had too much wine." He murmured as he drew his hand away and quickly hastened away out of the dining hall.  
  
He had no intention of where he should go next. He did not wish to depart to his chamber, so he continued to walk until eventually his pulse slowed and his head cleared. Walking now slower, and breathing in the deep, pine scent of the valley and of the summer rain, he came upon a doorway. The library. Seeking solace, he ventured inside. The entire room lay covered in darkness, until a pulse of flashing lightening caused the entire room to brighten for an instance. Somewhat calmed, he closed the door quietly behind him, and made his way to the fireplace to create a small fire for light.  
  
Half the spell of an hour later, he sat cozily on a plush sofa glancing through a few historical documents of the second age. Of a sudden, his elvish senses alerted him of a sound. The door was opening ever so slowly. Papers forgotten, he narrowed his eyes to identify the newcomer. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he recognized the elf. Erestor.  
  
The steward closed the door behind him, and gazed apprehensively at the elf- lord.  
  
"Glorfindel, is there something I have done to offend you?" the auburn elf quietly asked.  
  
"Of course not, Erestor. You are my dear friend." The golden elf replied just as quietly.  
  
With a worried expression still harbored upon his face, the steward strode across the room and sat beside the elf-lord on the sofa.  
  
"It's just that you looked genuinely angry with me when you departed so suddenly in the dining hall." The steward's expression was as plain as day: hurt. Glorfindel immediately felt ashamed for having caused one of his oldest friends to feel thus. He sighed,  
  
"Forgive me, mellon nîn. Do not feel wounded." And with that, he gave the steward a friendly embrace, which the steward eagerly returned. Almost too eagerly. From over his left shoulder he heard the auburn elf whisper,  
  
"Thank the Valar. I do not think you know how much I value our friendship, Glorfindel." The elf-lord inhaled the scent of honey and blossoms in the auburn locks, and suddenly felt the unwelcome feeling of desire growing in his nether regions. Alarm overtook him, and he insistently pulled out of the embrace. As he faced the steward once more, he saw something in the depths of the hazel eyes that he had never seen before. Could it be? Longing? He noticed that the auburn elf was unknowingly pressing closer once more. Not wanting his old friend to notice his arousal, the elf-lord edged away. Pain flashed in the hazel eyes yet again.  
  
"You are angry. My apologies, my lord, I will leave you at once." The steward made a move to leave as guilt tore through Glorfindel, and he instantly grabbed his friend's arm.  
  
"Please, do not leave mellon nîn," he murmured. The auburn elf turned his head to face the elf-lord, their noses nearly touching. Glorfindel could not longer misread the lax wanting in the hazel pools that were inches from his face. Taking an extreme risk of ruining their long friendship, he quietly leaned forward and brushed his lips slightly against the steward's. They each remained quietly for a moment, their lips slightly touching. Unexpectedly, Erestor parted his lips, granting Glorfindel the permission he sought. The steward gave a sharp gasp as the elf-lord swiftly plundered the sweetness of the former's mouth with his tongue, and began to paw at the latter's robes.  
  
"Oh, Valar..." the steward moaned as the elf lord began to kiss down his jaw- line and against his tipped ear. Erestor convulsively gripped at Glorfindel's tunic, and groaned.  
  
"Glorfindel, I've-wanted-wanted this for-ah!-an age!"  
  
This newfound confession increased the elf-lord's desire ever more and he hastily lowered the steward and himself down onto the sofa.  
  
Erestor's breathing hitched in his throat as he felt his robes being undone by Glorfindel's deft fingers and a skilled tongue suckling along his throat. It was bliss, sheer bliss. His eyes fluttered shut, when he felt his now achingly hard arousal being gripped by the elf-lord's hands.  
  
Once Glorfindel had discarded the steward's apparel he impatiently ripped off his own tunic and pushed aside his breeches, not wanting to part his lips from Erestor's body. Once he felt that they were both to potent arousal he sealed a possessive kiss against the steward's lips and murmured breathily,  
  
"Are you certain you wish to go through with this, Erestor?" He sucked the tip of his lover's ear before continuing, "You must tell me before I am unable to control myself."  
  
In answer, Erestor wrapped his legs around the waist of the elf-lord above him and groaned.  
  
"Never have I been more certain of anything, ever, hir nîn. Make love to me."  
  
An hour later, their' beautiful elvish forms seemed to meld together. The dull light from the fire caused a glowing sheen of sweat to radiate from their bodies.  
  
From that moment onward, Glorfindel had claimed Erestor as his. He found he could not be apart from the elf for very long without an intense desire stirring in him, and it was all too apparent that the steward felt the same.  
  
It was his wish for them to keep their liaison a secret, though he knew the Lord and Lady of Imladris would not judge them. He simply wished to keep their relationship from the prying eyes of others. He was fully aware that Erestor would not wished to be looked down upon by his peers.  
  
And so it was for the following three years. . .  
  
2506 Third Age - Present  
  
Glorfindel lay with his head resting against Erestor's chest, both lovers breathing heavily from their love making. The wind whistled softly through the leaves of the birch tree above.  
  
"I cannot believe you did that," murmured the steward.  
  
Glorfindel's eyes widened as he lifted his head to gaze accusingly at his lover.  
  
"Erestor, muin mellon, you were as active a lover as I! Do not be so quick to point fingers!"  
  
Erestor simply rolled his eyes, and gazed out into the distance. Inside, he was beaming with happiness. Of a sudden, his eyes widened in horror.  
  
"Glorfindel! The papers! They've scattered everywhere!"  
  
The elf-lord gripped his sides with laughter as he watched his Erestor rush around the lawn, gathering up stray pieces of parchments that had blown in the wind.  
  
"I do believe I've punished you enough, steward!"  
  
Morning Wine is a type of wine that they serve during breakfast in France. It's mostly watered down considerably and very sweet. It's actually quite good. You should try it sometime.  
  
TBC. . .  
  
Please review! 


	3. Receiving Envoys

Title: Morning's Embrace Part I Email: lollipop4588yahoo.com Rating: N-17 Pairing: Glorfindel/Erestor. . .for now Author's Note: This chapter is going to go more into the depth of Erestor's feelings, and also, a few new and a well-known character will be introduced. ;) Enjoy! Disclaimer: Everything but the story belongs to Professor J.R.R. Tolkien. I'm not making any profit from this, and I'm only writing this because I love to write. =)

A reiviewer of mine on a different website pointed out that I had chosen names for my OC's that were already in use in the Silmarillion. So last night, I went through an elvish dictionary to create new ones. If they're still not exceptable, please let me know! Thanks!  
  
The evening's pale moon waxed in the vast, starry sky over Imladris. Two lumenn's after nightfall, Erestor stood at his balcony overlooking Glorfindel assemble his combatants to depart from the vale and meet the approaching envoys from the elven domains of Lothlórien and Mirkwood. The elf-lord was currently astride his horse and receiving a few final commands from Elrond who stood nearby on the house's porch, overlooking the departure. The moon's pale luminosity glowed and glittered against the elf- captain's golden hair, making him appear more lordly and ethereal than the steward had ever seen him look before.  
  
Commanding his elven companions to move out, the elven-lord, feeling as if he were being watched happened to glance up to find a gazing Erestor looking down on him from his balcony. Giving a sly smile, he reached his mind up to the steward,  
  
"Tenna' ento lye omenta" Until next we meet. Thinking the steward would frown upon his rather rude form of farewell (for he knew Erestor found it rather personal to communicate with one's mind) he was very nearly shocked when he felt a calm and rather hushed thought replied to his own,  
  
"Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au'" I shall be melancholy until I see thee again.  
  
Trying to veil the his rather surprised countenance, Glorfindel gave one last smile and nod to the steward, and spun his mount around to lead his companions out of the vale.  
  
As he watched the elves depart, Erestor could not help feeling a little surprised himself, at his own telepathic reply to the elf-lord. In fact, he found that he'd nearly already forgiven the golden elf for causing him to lose half of the Lord Elrond's letters earlier that morning. Nearly. He could remember the twin's fits of stifled laughter as he'd returned the crumpled papers of remaining parchment to Elrond with his usually smooth auburn tresses in somewhat disarray, although that hadn't been from merely running after the stray papers, but they did not need to know that. For Valar's sake, even Arwen and Celebrian seemed strained to maintain a straight face! Erestor now decided that he would give Glorfindel a good speaking to when the latter returned later in the week.  
  
His thoughts remained upon the elven-lord as he retired from his balcony to retreat to his bedchamber for the evening. Attiring himself in a simple night robe, he sat himself before his desk and lit a small candle that lay upon it. He pulled out a bare piece of parchment from an alcove to the left and a small writing quill to begin a letter of correspondence to the shipwright Círdan of the Grey Havens pertaining to the council that was to take place concerning the swelling numbers of orcs inhabiting the east. Yet the steward's mind proved quite restless as he found he could not begin the letter. He was distracted, and could not bring his mind to import itself to the chief dilemmas at hand. Always, his mind would shift to the proud, beautiful creature known as Glorfindel.  
  
He remembered the first moment he'd desired the elf lord. It had been nearly 2,400 years ago. Sweet Elbereth!, he thought to himself. Has it really been that long? It had been whilst he was in attendance to Elrond's marriage to Celebrian in Lothlórien. It being his first time in the golden wood, he was in awe of the pale glow the entire kingdom had radiated upon everyone and everything. The ceremony had been a small, intimate gathering, with only close family and friends in attendance. Of course the Lady Galadriel and the Lord Celeborn, Celebrian's parents, along with a small contingent of her close friends she'd known from her past in the Golden Wood had been present, as well as a group of Imladrin elves, including Erestor and Glorfindel.  
  
As he'd witnessed Celebrian stating her vows and declarations to Elrond, Erestor had happened to glance to the far right from where the Lord and Lady stood, and saw Glorfindel observing the rite. His breath quite literally caught in his throat, and he'd had to reassure the elf-maid standing beside him that he was indeed quite all right.  
  
The Lord Glorfindel's emerald eyes were a deep shade of green, which were in striking contrast to a forest green cloak he wore. His flaxen gold mane reverberated with an unearthly quality in the pale luminescence of the wood. His proud countenance was clear and striking. Never before had he noticed the lord in this way, yet he wondered why he had never seen it before when his beauty was so blatantly apparent!  
  
Thinking that the elf-lord could not possibly be any closer to perfection than he was at that moment, he was stunned when the former suddenly shifted his jade eyes to rest on the steward, and smiled a warm smile that lit up his face in splendor.  
  
Sitting now, in his desk at Rivendell, Erestor reflected upon that smile now, and sighed. Indeed, his former self in Lórien would have groaned had he known of the agonizing two millennia to come.  
  
Upon discerning his new found desire for the elf-lord, he had been extremely nervous and on edge whenever in company with the former. In order to hide this strange new attraction, he composed himself to be extremely formal and rather icy when speaking to him, which was something he loathed to do, yet he did not think he would be able to bear it if the elf-lord ever found out about his feelings.  
  
And then that night three years past had happened. He'd been having a late meal in the dining hall when he'd caught the elf-lord peering at him. Thinking that he'd simply wished to speak to him, the steward had moved himself to sit beside the golden elf, thinking that perhaps the lord would explain to him what was on his mind. The steward remembered with some embarrassment a trivial comment he made about the weather, when Glorfindel had actually reached up his hand and caressed the side of his face! He remembered the shocking jolts of desire running through him at the touch, and he involuntarily stiffened in surprise. To his dismay, the elf-lord had then hastily excused himself, muttering something about wine. He remembered that he'd noticed intense emotion flashing in the emerald eyes, and at the time, he'd misread it as anger. Of course, he'd been deeply troubled by that. It hurt him immensely to think that the one he'd thought to be the most exquisite being in existence to be angry with him. After pondering this for a good while, he'd retreated from the dining hall, in search for the elf-lord, wishing to discover the reason for the latter's disapproval.  
  
After searching nearly the entire Homely House, he'd found a small flickering fire light coming from under the door of the Library. Venturing inside, he'd found the elf-lord sifting through parchments, and then only to look up at him with surprise and the same heated emotion he'd seen in the dining room. The rest of the memory was a mere haze compared to what would happen later.  
  
He remembered himself imploring as to why the elf-lord was angry with him, and the way the latter hastily denied it. And then, when the steward had nearly given up and decided to leave, the golden elf held him back and made move as to caress his lips with his own. Fear and surprise had paralyzed him at the moment.......and then....suddenly, it began to make sense. Glorfindel desired him as well! He knew not for how long, but it instantly became clear. The strange emotion he'd seen in the elf-lord's eyes had been conflicted desire, and he had no doubt fled from him in the dining hall for fear of upsetting him. Hope and happiness had coursed through him then, and he'd willingly given himself in to the golden-elf's embrace. Never had he felt pleasure surge at such heights as when Glorfindel had taken him then, with as much passion as he felt himself.  
  
The following day at noon, the elf-lord had clandestinely slipped him a note, instructing him to retire to the elf-lord's room come evenfall. With barely the energy to conduct himself with a timely manner, the steward had excused himself from the Hall of Fire that evening and made his way discreetly to Glorfindel's bedchamber. Upon reaching the desired door, he knocked quietly and heard a quite, "enter" from within. Slipping inside, he noticed the entire room lay in darkness, though he could still see quite easily with his elvish eyes. However, there was no sign of the elf-lord. The steward took a few more steps into the room, and then suddenly, with startling abruptness, he heard the door being kicked shut behind him. Spinning himself around at the sound, he was immediately caught in a fierce, passionate kiss by none other than the elven lord Glorfindel.  
  
While still maintaining the heated kiss, the elf-lord backed them both up until the steward's legs nearly caught against the bed. Erestor felt his tunic being hastily discarded as he was lowered forcefully yet without not without gentle care onto the bed.  
  
"What in Elbereth's name took you so long?" the flaxen elf had murmured breathily between kisses located along the steward's throat.  
  
"I could hardly excuse myself as soon as we'd finished the meal!" the steward panted in return.  
  
Erestor could not believe that another union with the elf-lord could be as pleasurable has it had been the first time. He soon learned he was wrong, and found that it was breathtaking to be so. Hours later that evening, the elf-lord laid with his head against the steward's chest, as he would soon be wont to do after an intense coupling, and spoke quietly,  
  
"Erestor, I think it would be best if no one knew about our associations for a while. I'm sure you would not want the attentions that we would most likely receive. For now, let us just keep this between ourselves.".  
  
The steward had acquiesced then in agreement, though later he would wonder at the elf-lord's need for such secrecy. Male/male relationships, though not as common, were in no way shunned by elves as they were with the race of men, and he found no reason why he should be unwilling to keep this from others. However, so happy was he that he had finally obtained his elf-lord that he cared not if their relationship was kept secret or out in the open. Glorfindel was finally his and his alone. The two elves then fell asleep, thus, in each other's arms until morning, when Erestor had retreated to his own chamber in the early hours of the new day.  
  
And so for the next three years up until the present did the two elves remain united in their liaison, spending as much as five times each week in each other's company in Glorfindel's room until the coming of dawn.  
  
Erestor sighed as he retreated from the haze of the memory, looking down upon the piece of parchment he'd set before him, no longer blank. As his mind had wandered, he'd sketched a portrait of the elf-lord. The sketch was in striking similarity to the way he'd looked in Lothlórien on the day of Elrond, and Celebrian's marriage. Smiling, he tucked the sketch away in a drawer, blew out the candle, and retired to bed.  
  
Glorfindel and his combatants camped along the border of the vale for three days before any of the impending envoys became present. At the hour of noon on the third day, Elrohir, who, with his twin, had joined the welcome party, approached the elf-lord with news that a small troop of elves were seen to be approaching in the distance.  
  
Raising his hand to shield his keen, elvish eyes from the sun, Glorfindel peered into the distance and saw what the Elrondion had spoken of. Emerging from a small wood at the foot of the hills, came a group of no more than eight or nine elves. From Lórien, it seemed, for their cloaks were of gray velvet and their hair a silver sheen. Their grace and beauty a faint reflection of their lord and lady.  
  
Glorfindel swiftly turned to go to his steed that stood with the others next to a nearby tree, and mounted with the easy grace of his people. Nudging his mount he rode down the rocky path to meet the Lórien elves that made their way slowly towards the Imladrin encampment.  
  
"Mae govannen, mellon! I am Glorfindel. The Lord Elrond bade me welcome you." he called as he slowed his steed to a halt before the company, who in turn did the same. Each bowed their head in faithful respect, and their leader slowly withdrew the hood of his cloak from over his brow to reveal a crown of raven hair, which was odd for a Lórien elf. Yet his heritage was certainly apparent by his pale blue eyes which was common amongst those of the Golden Wood.  
  
"Mae govannen. I am Morfin." the elf returned, inclining his head. "The Lady bade us thank you for receiving us so graciously."  
  
"You can tell your Lady when you return that we thank her for sending Imladris such gracious representatives of her domain." Glorfindel returned with a welcoming smile. He then, turned his mount in the opposite direction to lead the company toward the Imladrin encampment.  
  
"Did you meet any difficulties along your road?" he inquired, pulling his steed alongside Morfin.  
  
"None. We count ourselves fortunate. How much farther does the road stretch until we reach your Vale?" The Lórien elf answered with a slight edge to his voice. Glorfindel presumed that the elf was no doubt weary from the journey.  
  
"'Tis but an hour's ride, mellon, however, I'm afraid we cannot depart just yet."  
  
"No?" there was no mistaking the displeasure in Morfin's tone.  
  
"I'm afraid we must still wait for the elves hailing from Mirkwood to grace us with their presence. They should arrive within two day's time. However, we have plenty of food and hot water for your people to replenish themselves, if you seek respite." The elf-lord apologized.  
  
"Well, I suppose we have no other choice." Morfin retorted in annoyance. Glorfindel managed a side-long glance at the elf to notice a slight roll of light blue eyes. Sighing inwardly, the elf-lord thought to himself, "I shall have to keep an eye on this one!"  
  
The passing of two days came and went with still no sign from the elves from Mirkwood. On the dawn of the third day, Glorfindel stood atop a large boulder, his eyes sweeping the distance for any sign of the envoy.  
  
"Where are these Sindarins?" he heard a voice from beside him. Glancing to his right, Glorfindel saw Morfin gazing into the distance as well, an annoyed expression on his fair face. "I grow weary of remaining here."  
  
Glorfindel clenched his jaw, trying to maintain his waning patience. For the past two days, Morfin had done nothing but sneer and curse the Mirkwood elves for their lack of haste, protesting that his people wished to sleep under a decent roof after their journey. Despite what the elf proclaimed, Glorfindel could not help but notice that perhaps it was only the raven- crowned elf who felt thus, for the remainder of the Lórien company were nothing but grateful and understanding. Glorfindel couldn't help but wonder if the reason the Lord and Lady of Lórien sent this elf as an envoy was simply to get him out of their hair.  
  
"If they do not turn up by tomorrow's evenfall, myself and a few of my combatants shall go in search of them. Let us hope they were not waylaid by orcs."  
  
The Lórien envoy merely sniffed and returned to his tent, the elf-lord glad to be rid of him for a spell.  
  
The following evening, Glorfindel and a select few of his Imladrin warriors prepared to depart in search of their delayed guests. Just as he prepared to mount his steed, he heard his name being called.  
  
"Lord Glorfindel! Lord Glorfindel!" The elf-lord snapped his head around to see Elladan gallop towards him astride his mount. Skittering to a halt, the Elrondion dismounted swiftly and came towards his lord.  
  
"My lord, I've just sighted the Sindarin ambassadors! They've just emerged from the wood, and coming this way!"  
  
Glorfindel nodded and sighed with relief. Vaulting up onto his horse he let himself be led to Elladan's sighting by the latter. Down the ridge, he saw the band of Mirkwood elves slowly plodding from the forest astride their tired mounts. The elf-lord at once cantered down to them.  
  
"Vedui, Sindarin! Lle tyava quel?" Hail, are you well?  
  
The Mirkwood elves glanced up to him with large, thankful eyes.  
  
"We were ambushed by orcs at the Old Ford. We apologize for arriving so late." Glorfindel turned to see a young, dark haired elf ride forward, looking rather weary and travel worn.  
  
"We expected as much. We were only just leaving in search for you, before my companion informed me of your arrival. Are any of you hurt?" the elf- lord inquired.  
  
"No," he replied, "Thank Gilthoniel it 'twas but a small band. We overtook them easily, though they managed to slow us down considerably." He sighed wearily before continuing. "I am called Taurion, and what shall we call you, mellon?"  
  
"I am called-" however, before the elf-lord could continue, a new voice spoke up from among the Sindarin elves.  
  
"You are none other than the Lord Glorfindel; Balrog Slayer are you not?" Glorfindel turned his attention to a young, flaxen elf who urged his horse forward eagerly to hail the elf-lord.  
  
"I am." He replied with a smile, his attentions focused upon the young elf who smiled eagerly in return. He was a comely lad with dark gold hair and shimmering brown eyes.  
  
"Malenlaus! You should desist from speaking without being invited to do so!" The young elf known as Malenlaus grew flushed as he regarded yet another Sindarin elf who had scolded him. The scolding elf rode forward to give an apologetic grin to the elf-lord, who's green eyes widened in wonder. This latest speaker was comely rather beyond belief. His hair seemed spun from the very essence of gold and his eyes were a shimmering sapphire.  
  
"I am Legolas Thranduilion." The handsome elf replied.  
  
Glorfindel raised his slender eyebrows in surprise.  
  
"King Thranduil sends us his own son? Imladris is honored to receive you, prince!"  
  
"I am honored to be here, my lord."  
  
Glorfindel smiled, before leading them up the path to the encampment.  
  
TBC. . .  
  
lumenn is the elvish word for 'hour'.  
  
If you have read this, thank you so much, and please, please review! I'm an aspiring writer, and feedback is VERY appreciated. Thank you for taking the time to read this! Receiving


	4. Reunion

Title: Morning's Embrace Part I Email: lollipop4588yahoo.com Rating: N-17 Pairing: Glorfindel/Erestor. . .for now Disclaimer: Everything but the story belongs to Professor J.R.R. Tolkien. I'm not making any profit from this, and I'm only writing this because I love to write. =) Author's Note: Thank you to those who have been reading this so far. Hope you enjoy this chapter! Btw, there's a more graphic version of this up on adultfanfiction.net.  
  
Glorfindel very nearly found himself rather spent upon the return journey to Rivendell. The young Sindarin elf, known as Malenlaus, had immediately bombarded him with questions as soon as they embarked on the passage home, taking little breath between inquiries. The young elf seemed to require nearly every detail of the elf-lord's life! How did he defeat the balrog?, what was the Halls of Awaiting like?, how long did he have to wait before he was reborn?, what was it like to serve under the Lord Elrond? It all began to seem as a blur to Glorfindel.  
  
At first, he had smiled politely and answered the youth's questions with a courteous manner, yet now it was all the golden lord could do to simply refrain from sighing in exasperation! He glanced into Malenlaus' liquid brown eyes and saw complete and utter hero worship in them. The elf lord nearly gave a bark of laughter as he realized how strange this welcoming excursion had become. He had gone from being held in disdain by the Lórien elf, Morfin, to being revered by this Sindarin youngster! Sighing inwardly, his thoughts drifted to his Erestor. No doubt the steward would have spoken his mind to the young elf instead of simply allowing himself to be bombarded with inquiries. The thought nearly caused him to laugh aloud.  
  
Clenching his jaw to hide his pending smirk, he prepared himself for the next onslaught of queries from Malenlaus.  
  
"Lord Glorfindel, is it true you resided in the renowned city of Gondolin?"  
  
Before the elf-lord made move to answer, he was cut off by the young flaxen elf's elder companion, Taurion,  
  
"For the breath of Gilthoniel, Malenlaus! Give the Lord Glorfindel a respite from your endless questions! Come, you will ride beside me for awhile!"  
  
Glorfindel couldn't help feeling sorry for the lad as the latter's cheeks flushed with crimson as he turned his palfrey to ride beside his companion, yet he was filled relief for the respite from the rather intense interrogation. Glancing over his shoulder, he caught sight of the Lórien elves following closely behind the Sindarin elves, with Morfin at their head. Upon noticing the elf-lord gazing on him, he turned his eyes away quickly, annoyance flashing in the pale azure depths.  
  
"Morfin is well known for his bitter tongue and acid manner."  
  
Glorfindel turned his head back around to notice the prince Legolas riding, now, beside him.  
  
"Is he now?" the elf lord replied.  
  
"Yes. A number of years ago, he was sent to our own wood as a representative of his home. Needless to say, he made very few friends in our realm. In fact, seeing him here, I cannot help but think that the Lord Celeborn sent him as a messenger yet again so as he would not have to deal with him, himself."  
  
The prince's sapphire eyes widened in surprise as the Lord Glorfindel burst out with laughter, the merry sound of it echoing against the rocky walls of the mountains surrounding them.  
  
"Was what I said exceedingly humorous?" Legolas asked in smirking curiosity.  
  
Glorfindel's rather sudden attack now began to diminish as he struggled to speak.  
  
"It's nothing, prince. It's simply that I thought the exact same when I first encountered him." The elf-lord then began to continue chuckling to himself softly as he glanced apologetically at his companions who had gazed back at him in wonder when his fit of laughter had begun.  
  
Gorfindel's eyes then caught those of the youngster's who worshipped him so. He found that, for once, the brown gaze was not upon him, but upon the prince who rode beside him. The elf-lord watched the young elf's expression for a while, noticing that an intense emotion flashed inside the amber gaze. Could it be, anger? Jealousy?  
  
The elf-prince at once noticed the elf-lord's curious stare, and turned his head around to find Malenlaus glaring at him heatedly. However, noticing the prince's returning glare, he turned away hastily to converse with Taurion alongside him.  
  
Legolas turned back to the elf-lord and smiled.  
  
"When Malenlaus heard the news that my father was to send a small contingent of us to Rivendell, he very nearly went on his hands and knees, asking to be sent as well."  
  
Glorfindel grinned in return.  
  
"Imladris would indeed be a grand sight to see if one had never laid their eyes on it before."  
  
At this, the prince's smile turned into an open smirk.  
  
"My lord, 'twas not Rivendell he longed to see. 'Twas you."  
  
Glorfindel's golden eyebrows raised in surprise.  
  
"Me?"  
  
"Yes, you. Malenlaus has been an extremely apt pupil since his coming of age. I've been told he reads our account of historical records for nigh hours on end."  
  
"Does he now?"  
  
"Indeed he does. Of late, his newest fixation has been you. My father informed me that he had recently gotten his hands on the accounts of the fall of Gondolin. After learning of your sacrifice of your own life for the Lady Idril Celebrindal, he has spoken of nothing other than you for quite some time."  
  
Glorfindel found himself blushing slightly.  
  
"I must admit, it is flattering to have inspired one so young. How old is he?"  
  
"I believe he's only just passed his 106th name-day. He is still quite young. I'm rather surprised my father allowed him to accompany us."  
  
"I'm surprised your father sent his own son, prince!" the elf-lord returned, motioning his horse to the left following along the path.  
  
The prince laughed softly before replying,  
  
"He knows I enjoy journeys away from home now and again. And also, my lord, Glorfindel, I do believe that of the two of us, your blood is of much more noble lineage then mine, so you do not need to feel impelled to call me 'prince' simply because my father is a King. In fact I would prefer to be simply Legolas." The prince smiled as his ocean blue eyes waited patiently for an answer.  
  
Glorfindel acquiesced with a small nod and a soft smile,  
  
"As you wish, Legolas."  
  
The time of night had fallen upon the vale as the Imladrin elves and their emissary guests rode their steeds into the courtyard in front of the Last Homely House East of the Sea. Glorfindel immediately set two of his charges to stabling the crowd's horses for the night and bid the envoys to follow him. As he led them toward the front steps ascending into the home, Elrond and his wife advanced from the entrance hall.  
  
"We began to grow worried when you did not appear two night's past!" Elrond declared sternly, though a relieved smile crept across his lips. Celebrian nudged her husband teasingly.  
  
"That is the understatement of the century, my lord! Glorfindel, you had my husband so worried, he nearly saddled his steed to go out looking for you, alone!" Her crystal eyes twinkled with humor, yet relief resided there as well. Elrond gave his wife a rueful glare before questioning a, now, grinning Glorfindel,  
  
"Did you meet difficulties, mellon nîn?"  
  
"No, Elrond, we did not. However, the Sindarins. . ." Glorfindel's voice trailed to a faltered hesitation suddenly as he saw the steward of Imladris quietly approach, taking a place alongside the Lord and Lady of Imladris. The moon's luster formulating his auburn locks into streaks of silver. The hazel eyes embraced a reflection of the moon, causing them to shine with radiance. Suddenly, he remembered that he had been speaking.  
  
". . .the – ah – Sindarins were delayed by an orc ambush. They are all quite unhurt, I assure you, though they are few days late of arriving."  
  
Elrond nodded in understanding as Celebrian moved past him to address the group of elves waiting to be invited inside.  
  
"My lords, you are no doubt weary from your excursions! Dinner has been two hours past, however, I will alert our housemistress of your arrival and she will prepare a late meal for those who wish to replenish themselves with food before retiring for the evening."  
  
All the while as the Lady of Imladris said this, Glorfindel kept his eyes locked on Erestor's, who gazed at him in return. The elf-lord suddenly realized that he had sorely disliked not being in company with the steward, not to mention the lonely nights.  
  
"My sons will show you to your rooms tonight," continued the Lady motioning to her twin sons who stood amongst the throng. Nodding wearily, yet with respect to their mother, they began to lead the envoys into the house. Glorfindel remained on the steps before Erestor, until all the others had departed.  
  
"How was your passage?" the steward asked softly.  
  
"Very dull," the elf-lord murmured in reply.  
  
"I was concerned when you didn't arrive on schedule," Erestor continued.  
  
"Were you?" Glorfindel barely audibly whispered, as he climbed another step to be eye-level with the steward. Before he knew what was happening, he found himself leaning closer towards Erestor. In fact, a kiss had very nearly taken place had not the steward very slowly placed his hands flat against the elf-lord's chest as if to hold him at bay. Glorfindel half moaned at the touch.  
  
"I'm retiring for the evening," Erestory whispered rather seductively as he looked up into the elf-lord's eyes. He carefully removed his hands and disappeared into an adjacent hall towards the bedchamber wing.  
  
The elf-lord nearly followed. Yet he stood his ground for a moment, wondering if it would be deemed rude if he did not bid his guests good night before retiring. After a moment's consideration, he found he didn't care. His ever growing need for his Erestor was beginning to pull at him as it always did. Just as he made move to follow him, he heard someone speak,  
  
"Lord Glorfindel, you're back!"  
  
The elf-lord turned his gaze quickly around to the entrance hall. Arwen Undómiel stood there smiling at him. Her long, midnight hair tumbling down her shoulders. She truly was the image of Lúthien, her foremother.  
  
"Ah.. .yes, Arwen, we only just returned."  
  
Smiling, she walked closer, her gown trailing behind her.  
  
"I thought I heard the sound of voices whilst in my chamber, so I came down to welcome you and your comrades." Her dark blue eyes flickered across the courtyard, "It seems I was too late."  
  
Glorfindel laughed quietly,  
  
"Do not worry, hiril nîn. We did not arrive without welcome. Your mother and father bid them enter just moments before."  
  
She smiled in relief. Glorfindel's hands itched involuntarily and he placed them quickly behind his back. He needed his Erestor.  
  
"Hiril nîn, if you'll please excuse me, there is something I must - "  
  
"I know," she replied softly, "forgive me for detaining you, Lord Glorfindel. Go." Her eyes glimmered knowingly.  
  
The elf-lord looked at her curiously.  
  
"You wish to sleep, no?" she prompted. "Your passage home was beyond a doubt arduous?"  
  
"Ah, yes, I wish to-to sleep. Quel kaima, Arwen."  
  
Nodding his head in respect, he retreated to the corridor which led to the bedchamber wing, his cloak fluttering behind him. He went up the stairs quickly, his heart thrumming in anticipation. Soon his Erestor would be in his arms, and life would grow to be bliss once more. Pausing outside his own door, he opened it carefully and entered it quietly. Peering quickly around he found . . . it to be empty. Furrowing his eyes, he made sure Erestor was not behind the door frame nor under his bed. Pondering this, he thought that perhaps Erestor had meant that he really was going to bed. A shiver of disappointment ran through him.  
  
Sighing, the elf-lord undid the clasp of his cloak, and set it atop his bed. Reaching a hand behind his head, he rubbed the muscles, relaxing his neck, as he ventured out onto his balcony, gazing into the night. His eyes roved over the blissful valley, still vividly colorful even under cover of night. His gaze eventually wandered over the rest of the Homely House toward Erestor's balcony adjoining the steward's room. The curtain's were drawn to veil the interior of the chamber, yet the elf-lord's keen eyes spotted a flickering candle-light through the slight parting in the draperies. He then glanced to the balcony which lay between his own and Erestor's. Of a sudden, an idea came into his mind; a smirk brushing against his lips.  
  
Erestor sat at his desk, reviewing papers of correspondence, not really importing his mind to them. The past week had been strange not having Glorfindel there. An element seemed to be missing from the vale. Of course the elf-lord had been sent on excursions before, but he had never truly felt lonely without him until now. At night, he would lie in bed, awake as ever, pleading for sleep and thinking of Glorfindel. Valar, he'd even resorted to helping Arwen with her needle-work to keep his mind off of the dilemma!  
  
Yet, when the elf-lord had not returned as when was expected, he felt nervous and on edge. He found himself sneaking glances at the courtyard during the day to see if he had arrived, and at night he would listen for the sound of horse's hooves. Earlier that evening, he'd been reading whilst reclining on his bed when he'd heard voices in the courtyard below. He'd heard Glorfindel's familiarly deep voice commanding his combatants about something or other. Relief had assailed him then and he'd cast aside his book to meet his elf-lord in person.  
  
Below, when the other's had departed to the dining hall, his blood had nearly boiled in his veins when the elf-lord had made move to embrace him. He'd then absconded himself towards the bedchamber wing, trying to hide an embarrassingly blissful grin. However, once he'd noticed that the elf-lord had not followed him, he'd retired to his own room to work on his papers. He'd reasoned with himself that the elf-lord was no doubt tired, and wished to divulge in a meal, and then withdraw to sleep.  
  
Rubbing tiredly now at his eyes, he forced himself to try and read this letter. Abruptly, as he'd read past the second line, he felt the presence of another being in the room. Somewhat alarmed, he turned around in his chair to face the door. The door remained shut and closed as it had been before. Yet there was certainly something different about the room. . .there was more moonlight streaming in. Turning to the curtains, he found them cast aside and also the Lord Glorfindel standing at the entrance to his balcony, leaning casually against the side pillar, his hair a cascade of golden silver in the moonlight. Struggling to hide his surprise, the steward stated,  
  
"Doors were invented for a reason, Glorfindel."  
  
"I know," the elf-lord stated as he casually sauntered over to where the steward sat at his desk. "For privacy reasons. So certain activities held within the bedroom are withheld from meddling eyes?" Smirking, the elf lord now sat upon the desk in front of Erestor, looking down on him.  
  
The steward stood to face the golden elf, as he retorted,  
  
"Well I certainly don't see the point in participating in such activities if ones, such as you, climb up through other's balconies despite these privacy reasons."  
  
The elf-lord merely smirked mischievously in reply. Casting his eyes downward, Erestor asked quietly,  
  
"Why are you not in the dining hall with your comrades?"  
  
"Is that what you thought, vana pen?" he heard the golden elf reply softly. Lifting his eyes, he looked up into the emerald eyes of Glorfindel.  
  
Before another word was spoken, nor another breath taken, the elf-lord captured Erestor into a passionate kiss. The steward moaned into the other's mouth, clutching at the other's soldier's for balance and out of need. Glorfindel reached up his hands to entangle his fingers in the silken auburn locks of his Erestor, bringing him closer. He hastily moved his lips over the steward's face, trailing kisses to his delicately tipped ear.  
  
"Erestor, Erestor, nín." He murmured breathily against Erestor's flesh, his hands now running along the latter's torso.  
  
Erestor felt himself shiver involuntarily. He was pleased when that seemed to increase Glorfindel's ministrations against his neck. Catching the strong scent of the elf-lord's hair, which smelled of wine and the sea, he panted,  
  
"Glorfindel. . .I missed this. . I missed us. . .you." He ceased his incoherent ramblings and simply allowed himself to be loved and caressed by his elf-lord.  
  
Glorfindel assailed his Erestor on the lips once more with a slow, simmering kiss, gripping the small of the steward's back and grinding their arousals together. Erestor gasped harshly against the elf-lord's lips, struggling to keep his knees from collapsing. Glorfindel then reached his hand between them and deftly unfastened Erestor's breeches, to swiftly stoke him to levels of pleasure, he had ever felt before.  
  
Half the spell of an hour later, Glorfindel collapsed upon his Erestor, panting with fatigue. After a moment, once both had regained their wind, the elf-lord looked back into the steward's eyes, and gave him a loving, lingering kiss.  
  
He then pulled himself and Erestor upright once more, and directed the other towards the bed, where they made love much more slowly long into the night. . .  
  
Quel kaima sleep well vana pen lovely one  
  
Thank you for reading this chapter ( Please review, feedback is very appreciated! Thank you again! 


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